Wednesday, August 13, 2014

I’ve had a lot to say to God about the events of the past few weeks. I am generally most fond of gratitude-based prayers but lately I have found myself issuing my list of demands, like an angry bank robber.

I ask grace for the people who are waiting. I want peace for those I can’t find on a map. For the desperate, I want health in body and mind (the mind is just more of the body after all). I want justice for wronged families, still knowing that justice will not fill the holes left in their worlds by missing children, fathers, and mothers. I ask balance for the caretakers. For the elders, I ask another revolution around the sun.

I ask education for girls as well as boys. Food and fresh water and hope for those who’ve grown too used to living empty. Faith for the hopeless. Rain after thunder after rain to end the long drought. I ask laughter for the impatient. For the marginalized and dismissed, I ask celebration for our differences.

For the wandering I ask deep roots and home. I ask mercy for the abandoned and abused. For the frightened, a deep, free, breath. For the addicted I ask freedom. For the protectors I ask for wings instead of weapons. I ask presence for the invisible. For the lonely I ask for The Divine. I ask acceptance for the grieving. I ask the north star for the lost.

I ask light coming through the crack under the door for people fumbling through the darkness – which is all of us.

If praying is talking to God, and meditation is listening, I have certainly been monopolizing the conversation. Now, I am ready to hear.